


Poetry and Sofas

by SemperAeternumQue



Series: Semp's bad fics about Cherri Cola [3]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst, cherri cola has been through some shit, don't ask why fun ghoul was at dr. d's radio station idk either, no beta we die like the fab four, please ignore the awful title, shitty poetry by me included!, show pony is there but for like 0.001 seconds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24890962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SemperAeternumQue/pseuds/SemperAeternumQue
Summary: Cherri Cola has the unfortunate habit of leaving his poetry lying around Dr. Death Defying's radio station.Fun Ghoul has the unfortunate habit of being a nosy gremlin.Aka how Fun Ghoul got a lot more than xe bargained for, learned about a war and Cherri Cola's backstory, and continued to be a little shit to Party Poison, feat. my shitty poetry.
Relationships: Agent Cherri Cola & Fun Ghoul
Series: Semp's bad fics about Cherri Cola [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800331
Comments: 13
Kudos: 17





	Poetry and Sofas

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the latest episode of 'Semp can't title shit to save his life'! On this episode, he will refer to himself in third person, write about Fun Ghoul, and write poetry so bad it's a disgrace to Cherri Cola's name. 
> 
> Ok done trying to be funny. Warnings for this one: mentions of death, violence, and war. Nothing is super graphic but let's just say cherri's life has really not been fun. Also lots of swearing but that's a given with me.
> 
> Also for clarity: Fun Ghoul uses xe/xem and he/him pronouns in this. I haven't used xe/xem much yet, so if I made a mistake in usage please let me know! (Cherri Cola just uses he/him.)

“Give that back!” Cherri Cola called exasperatedly.

Fun Ghoul leapt onto the back of the sofa, out of his reach, still holding the poem. “I want t’ read it! I never get t’ read your poetry!”

“I read poems on the radio at least once a week!”

“Yeah, but only Jet n’ Kobes listen t’ that!”

Cherri sighed. “At least take one of the finished ones.”

“But this one looks neat,” Ghoul protested, still perched precariously on the back of the sofa.

Cherri sighed again. “If you get off D’s sofa, I’ll read you the poem. Whichever one it is.” He didn’t know exactly which of his poems was on the raggedy scrap of paper that Fun Ghoul had managed to steal, but chances were it would be one he was planning to read on the radio anyways.

Ghoul seemed to think for a moment before he hopped off the top of the sofa, tilting xyr head at Cherri as if to say ‘pay up’. “Got off Dr. D’s sofa.”

“I suppose you did,” Cherri sighed, settling himself down on the sofa as Show Pony went skating by, yelling something about “Do y’ think we’ve got the carbons for that?”, presumably to Dr. Death Defying.

Ghoul happily settled next to Cherri, waving to Show Pony before passing Cherri Cola the scrap of paper.

Cherri’s heart plummeted when he recognized the poem on the sheet, but he forged on anyways. A deal was a deal, even if this one was a bit of a heavy topic.

“This one isn’t really finished, just warning you.”

“’S okay.” Xe looked over (and up) at him expectantly, and Cherri took a small breath.

“Right. Uh. Here we go.

Blood on your hands, a final goodbye.   
You drown in your grief, you scream to the sky.  
You held onto your pain, your fire, your rage.   
You cannot escape, your mind is a cage.

The people fell and the bodies rose.  
The deadly bomb brought the war to a close.  
Every body once had a beating heart.  
Every fallen soldier a craft or an art.

You fought a war from pain and grief.  
You are drowning, searching for relief.  
The wind whispers and shouts their names,  
The Phoenix Witch plays her games.

None of them deserved to fall,  
And in the night you’ll hear them call.  
They whisper oaths to the ones left behind,  
You offer quiet promises in kind.”

It wasn’t his best work, not by a long way. The rhymes were clunky and the symbolism obvious. It needed a lot of refining before Cherri would count it as finished, and even then, he doubted it would be his favorite.

But Fun Ghoul looked at the very least intrigued, eyes wide as xe asked Cherri “What does that all mean?”

“It means…” For once, the poet was at a loss for words. “It means that every person deserves to live. Every soul deserves peace. It means that there are no winners in war, only the ones who died and the ones left behind.” 

“Oh.” Xe frowned, looking both thoughtful and awfully young. “How d’ you know this stuff, Cola?”

“I’ve seen it.” He debated how much was appropriate to tell a literal teenager, and ultimately decided most of his stories were no worse than what Fun Ghoul would have seen already.

“I’ve watched so, so many people die for no reason. I’ve seen killjoys die for love and their love die a second later. I’ve known parents who gave their lives for a future that their children never even got to have, I’ve heard tales of medics and neutrals who were just trying to help the wounded when they were shot down. I saw the loss of life in the Analog Wars and the years after, and I saw the grief that followed. I knew children who were forced into fighting for Better Living Industries and killjoys who ended up fighting their former friends; I felt the pain and wrote the tales.”

Ghoul stared at him. “Shit, Cola. That’s…”

“I know,” Cherri said quietly. “I’ve seen horrors that I can’t express in any typical way. That’s part of why I write.”

“Shit. That’s- that’s really rough.”

“It’s been a long time.”

It had been, longer than he wanted to think about- or really remembered, for that matter. There had been years where all the days blended together, and who knows how long lost in the haze of addiction and sunlight. It was so easy to lose track of the time when all your effort was focused on getting through each day, and he still vividly remembered the years spent in that state of survival mode. It hadn’t been long enough for any of those memories to start fading away, much as he wished he didn’t carry the pain of his past.

Cherri shook his head, clearing away those thoughts to focus on what Ghoul was saying.

“-an’ can I have some of your destroya-cursed tea? Poison hates it and I want t’ get back at ‘em for that prank they pulled last week.”

He had no idea what prank Poison had pulled last week, but knowing them, it had probably been dastardly. “Alright, you can have some of my _very good_ tea.”

“No offense, but tha’ tea is th’ worst thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Rude,” Cherri sniffed, but he ruined his own dramatic effect by letting a smile slip. It was impossible to stay mad at any of the Fabulous Four for long, not with their bright smiles and laughter always bringing the room to life, not to mention how truly young they felt compared to him. They were still teenagers after all, no matter how fiercely they fought or how famous their crew.

So he took a bit of the radio station’s precious water supply and threw together some tea, giving it to Fun Ghoul in an old plastic water bottle. “Here you go, trouble.”

Xe grinned. “Thanks, Cola!” He gave Cherri a thumbs-up before running off, presumably to head back to the diner and prank Party Poison.

“Be nice to Poison, okay?” Cherri hollered after xem. “Don’t prank them too much!”

“Will do!” Xe hollered back, not sounding entirely honest.

Cherri shook his head and returned to his poetry, only later realizing that the poem he had shown Fun Ghoul was gone.

Ah well. Sometimes, the young and reckless needed a reminder of what the might face- and what they were fighting for. He hoped his poem would serve that purpose well enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, what did you think? was the poem as bad as i've been hyping it up to be? let me know in the comments or send me asks on tumblr @always-and-forever-a-killjoy!
> 
> (Also the 'destroya-cursed' tea is a reference to an earlier fic- cherri makes a god-awful form of 'tea' which is made out of some sort of desert plant and is universally agreed upon as disgusting by the killjoys. Cherri Cola is the only one who actually enjoys it, although Dr. Death Defying will drink it to not hurt his feelings The fabulous four are much less restrained about expressing their feelings towards it.)


End file.
